


My Ghost

by ashthefab



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drarry, Halsey - Freeform, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:33:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashthefab/pseuds/ashthefab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy and Harry are something - what, Harry isn't sure.  Then, something starts to morph into nothing, just when Malfoy became Harry's everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few notes before you start reading this fic!
> 
> 1) This is based off of a song by Halsey called "Ghost." It is a fabulous song - go listen to it. Even better, go listen to all of Halsey. Her songs give me too much inspiration.
> 
> 2) This fic is NOT canon-compliant. Draco and Harry don't meet in first year. I'm setting it somewhere around the beginning of sixth year.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

_ I don't like them innocent _

_ I don't want no face fresh _

_ Want them wearing leather _

_ Begging, let me be your taste test _

_ I like the sad eyes, bad guys _

_ Mouth full of white lies _

_ Kiss me in the corridor _

_ But quick to tell me goodbye _

 

The first time Harry saw him, it was in the corridor walking to Potions class.  The boy exuded an aura of arrogance and power, with expensive black robes and slicked back bleach-blond hair.  He was beautiful.  Harry didn’t realise he was staring until the boy stopped in front of him with a smirk.

“Like what you see, Potter?”

“I’m not gay?” Harry stuttered back, his answer coming out as a question.

“I’ll change your mind,” the boy whispered huskily.  “Meet me in this hallway tonight, if you feel like it.”  He strode away.  Before he got too far, however, he tossed a sentence over his shoulder, stormy grey eyes locking onto green.  “I’m Draco, by the way.  Draco Malfoy.”

And then he was gone.

 

It was hours later that Harry skirted down the edge of the halls of Hogwarts, slowly, methodically, making his way to the spot Malfoy had told him to go to.  A knot of - anticipation? fear? - settled in his stomach as his mind drifted to the thought of what the other might do to him.   _ Or it could all be a cruel joke _ , another part of him suggested.  He shook his head doubtfully.   _ Guess he’d find out. _  He slipped out from under his invisibility cloak when he found the spot, retreating into the shadows.  Despite the patch of moonlight shining through a tall window, it was still relatively dark, which made it impossible for him to tell who was coming down the hall.

“Potter,” a voice interrupted him.  “You actually came.”

Malfoy stepped out of the darkness.  He was still wearing his black robes, and his expression was carefully neutral with the exception of an unidentifiable glint in his eyes.  Harry swallowed thickly.

“Yes,” he managed.  “I’m here.  What do you want?”

“I thought you would have already figured that out,” Malfoy tutted.

“Why don’t you show me?” Harry replied recklessly, an unexpected confidence rising in him.  A sick feeling rose in his throat when Malfoy didn’t reply, and he cleared his throat nervously.  “That is, uh-”

Malfoy’s smooth voice cut in as the corner of his mouth twitched up.

“As you wish.”

Without another word, he slammed Harry against the wall, hands pinning down his arms as their lips connected in a bruising kiss.  There was no hesitation when it happened, and Harry immediately melted into the kiss.  His mind swam in a dim fog of pleasure, only aware of the other’s toned body pressed against his, and the faint taste of peppermint.  Malfoy’s lips were slightly chapped, but  _ god, Harry didn’t care one bit. _  All he could think of was wanting  _ more, more, more. _

“Please,” he gasped as soon as the other boy pulled away for a moment.  “Mal-Draco,  Please.”

“No,” Malfoy muttered, stepping back.  He licked his lips, looking anywhere but Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Harry croaked, not sure what he was apologising for.

Malfoy glanced up at Harry.  His eyes had a hint of what looked like sadness in them, but they quickly clouded over, returning to a blank slate once again.

“I must be going before Blaise realises I’m gone.”  He gave a dry laugh.  “I’ll see you around, Potter.”

Before Harry could respond, Malfoy was once again gone.

 

_ You say that you're no good for me _

_ 'Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve _

_ And I swear I hate you when you leave _

_ I like it anyway _

 

The next time Harry saw Malfoy, it was in the Three Broomsticks, on a cool afternoon in Hogsmeade.  He was sitting at the bar, seemingly alone, fingers curled around a steaming drink.  Harry knew he had to take this chance while he had it, so he slid into the seat next to him, ordering a butterbeer.  As soon as he had his drink, he turned to Malfoy.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said bluntly.  “I want to know why.”

The other looked up, seeming startled to see Harry.

“I...”  There was a tense silence before Malfoy stood up from his seat, slipping a galleon onto the bar.

“Draco.”  He didn’t respond, and strode out the door into the biting winter, only for Harry to hurriedly pay and follow him.  “Draco, wait.  I just want to talk.”

“I don’t,” the other snapped back, not pausing or slowing down.

He turned down a small side street and Harry still followed, finally matching his pace with Malfoy.

“Please,” he pleaded.  “Just one minute.”

“Fine,” Malfoy gritted out and stopped, turning to face the raven-haired boy.  “You have one minute, starting now.”

Harry’s confidence quickly fizzled out when he saw Malfoy’s hard face staring him down.  The stormy grey eyes seemed to bore into him, diminishing the last of his bravado.

“I...”

“Thirty seconds.”  Malfoy’s voice was dangerously low now.

Harry felt his back hit a wall and realised Malfoy had backed him up against the rough stones.  The smell of expensive cologne flooded his senses as Malfoy’s hot breath whispered against his cheek.

“Ten.”

“Stop pushing me away,” Harry finally whispered.

Malfoy jerked back as if he had been slapped.

“You don’t understand,” he hissed, fists clenching at his sides.  “I have to.”

“Make me understand,” Harry protested.  “Because like it or not, Malfoy, I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me  _ why _ you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You’re intoxicating,” Malfoy suddenly said.  “Do you know that?  One kiss, and I can’t keep my mind off of you.  You-” He paused, an angry look clouding his face.  “You’ve consumed my days, and my nights.”

“But you don’t have to deal with it like this,” Harry whispered in response.  “I want to be there.”

“Potter - Harry - listen to me,” Malfoy began, the sad look pervading his features once more.  “I’m not good for you.  There are millions of people in the world, and every single one of them are probably better than I am.  I am not someone you want to get involved with.”

“I think I’ll decide that for myself, thanks,” Harry retorted, stepping forward.

 

It was four hours later that they were lying in a dark tavern room, and Harry heard Malfoy slip out of the bed and get dressed, the door clicking shut behind him when he left.  Sadness, and anger, were bubbling inside of him, but he ignored it, instead opting to turn over, clutching the pillow more tightly to his chest.  He was gone.

 

_ My ghost _

_ Where'd you go? _

_ I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me _

_ My ghost _

_ Where'd you go? _

_ What happened to the soul you used to be? _

 

After that night, they became a habit.  Malfoy would glide through the hallways during the school day, making every effort to ignore Harry.  Then, in the late evenings, the two would meet up outside of the Room of Requirement and the events would blur, Harry only gaining clear thoughts when he was lying on the four-poster bed staring up at the enchanted ceiling, stars glinting down at him.  He would eventually fall into an uneasy sleep, only to always wake up the next morning to an empty bed.  It was one night months into their routine that the habit was broken.

When he reached the room, he stayed a careful distance back from Malfoy, so the other couldn’t drown his words in kisses.

“Draco.”

“Harry.”  Though he replied with a seemingly calm tone of voice, his always overly expressive eyes betrayed his confusion.  “What is it?”

“I want to be more,” he blurted out, invisibility cloak dangling from his hand.  “I don’t want to just be... whatever we are right now.”

“...No,” Malfoy whispered, voice hoarse.  “No.  I can’t do that.”  He took a step back, hands balling in his robes.  “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Harry persisted, stepping forward in response to the other’s actions.  “Do you just not care?” His voice broke slightly.  “Am I just a toy?  Is that all I am to you?”

“Of course not,” Malfoy whispered, taking another step back.  “I just can’t do that.  You have to understand.”

Understanding dawned on Harry’s face.

“You’re scared.”

He realised his mistake moments too late, as a hard mask slid over Malfoy’s feature, eyes brewing with too many emotions to count.

“I think we’re done here, Potter,”

“Draco, please,”  Harry pleaded.  “All you do is leave.”

“No,” he snapped, striding over to the door.  He paused a second, voice becoming slightly strangled.  “Just leave me alone.”

And with an ominous finality, the door swung shut, leaving Harry alone.   _ Again. _

 

_ You're a Rolling Stone boy _

_ Never sleep alone boy _

_ Got a million numbers _

_ And they're filling up your phone, boy _

_ I'm off the deep end, sleeping _

_ All night through the weekend _

_ Saying that I love him but _

_ I know I'm gonna leave him _

 

The weeks passed, and Malfoy stayed true to his word, avoiding Harry even more diligently than before.  Harry still waited at the Room of Requirement every night, with the little hope he had left, that the other boy didn't mean it.  And he would wake up every morning to the enchanted sky, with the words echoing in his head.   _ I think we’re done here, Potter. _  The part that stung the most was the reversion to being called by his last name.  It hurt, and Harry didn’t know why.  He felt hollow, as if someone had scraped him out, leaving nothing but emptiness.

Months had now come and gone.

Harry first heard the rumor at breakfast, when he was silently eating with Hermione, who was rambling on to Ronald about the inefficiency of Divination.

“Hey did ya hear?” Seamus butted in, sitting down heavily next to Ron.  “Malfoy’s expanded his horizons to Hufflepuff.”

“I heard he was a bit of a slut, but I didn’t think he’d corrupt the people outside of his house,” Ron snorted through a mouthful of cereal.

“Ron,” Hermione tutted.  “That’s rude, calling someone something like that.”

“Not if it’s true,” Ron retorted.  “Everyone knows he’s one.  All he does is sleep around.”

“I hadn’t heard about that before,” Harry offered up.

“He’s probably slept with everyone in the Slytherin house by now,” Ron affirmed.  “Probably would open his legs for anyone with enough sex appeal.”

Harry stood up from his seat, mind whirling.   _ They were never exclusive anyway.  Draco had said they were done before, he never meant it before, this is the first time he actually meant it- _

“Harry?  You alright, mate?”

“I feel a little sick,” he muttered in response to Ron’s question.  “I think I’m going to go back to the common room.”

“If you feel like you’re going to throw up, go straight to Madame Pomfrey,” Hermione ordered.  “But for now, a little rest probably is in order.”

“Yeah.  Thanks, Hermione.”

With that, he walked out of the great hall as fast as he could.  Despite the thoughts whirling in his mind, his feet brought him to the Room of Requirement.  He stumbled inside, sinking into a chair.   _ He was scared.  If I just tried harder it wouldn’t be like this.   _ He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to handle much more of their relationship without something more, but he never realised the effect Malfoy had on him.  He always needed one more night, one more fuck, one more kiss.  He knew he couldn’t live without Malfoy, even if their only interaction was of his body against the other’s.  He had more than an infatuation.   _ He loved him. _

 

_ My ghost _

_ Where'd you go? _

_ I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me _

_ My ghost _

_ Where'd you go? _

_ What happened to the soul that you used to be _

 

It was a year after their arrangement was broken that Harry stumbled into the Room of Requirement, ignoring the body in the armchair opposite his.  When he finally looked up, he noticed a pale Draco Malfoy slumped over in the chair, large purple bags under his eyes and a defeated look on his face.

“Draco?” Harry asked immediately, coming to attention.  “What-”

“I’ve tried so hard,” he croaked before Harry could ask anything.  He looked up at Harry, emotion boiling over on his face.  Everything he had always kept under lock and key seemed to be spilling out, in this moment, overflowing from him.  “What did you do to me?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, brows creasing in confusion.  “Bloody hell, Draco, you look horrible.  Are you okay?”

“Do I sound okay?” he snapped.  “You’ve done something to me.  I can’t stop thinking about you.”  He sounded broken, and Harry fell mute, unable to say anything for fear of scaring the other away.  “But I have to.”

“No you don’t,” Harry finally whispered.  “We can... We can start again.  Pretend that last year never happened.”

“No, Harry,” Draco murmured, hands clenching on the arms of his chair.  “We can’t.  I came to tell you - father’s arranged a marriage for me, to a wealthy pureblood family’s daughter.  Astoria, I think her name was.”  He laughed, but it was more in defeat than anything else.  “This is the last time we’ll be seeing each other around.”

A sinking feeling started in Harry’s stomach, chest tightening painfully.   _ There wasn’t any hope left.  There never was. _

“Please,” Draco whispered, stormy grey eyes connecting with bright green ones.

And so the two fell into the bed, and there was no sound for the next hour, only bare skin sliding against skin, and the taste of mint mingling with warm, salty tears.

So the next day, Harry was surprised when he woke up to a weight on the bed next to him, and lithe arms wrapped around his chest from behind.  Relaxing into the bittersweet warmth of the other boy, he let his eyes close, chasing all doubtful thoughts from his mind.  He knew that he would see Draco again.


End file.
